Left Behind
by Teddy R. Lupin
Summary: Sometimes it feels like you're missing a large part of yourself, and it's right in front of you...but you don't know what it is. What happens to Pepper Potts' son, Jason, when he learns? AU Movie-verse Tony/Pepper.
1. My Relatively Normal Life

First, let me ask you guys a question. Are you excited for Iron Man 2? I WAS going to go to the premiere, BUT I have a damn AP test on May 7, that I'll fail if I don't show up for the test. And since it's 25% of my grade or something, I can't miss it, or I'll fail out of history. :( I'm deeply saddened, but I can always go to the movie after the test :). It just won't be at Grauman's Chinese, the best theater in Hollywood.

Anyway, this story is basically...well...I don't want to spoil it. But you'll see.

* * *

"Jason!" I heard my mother call my name up the stairs, but I didn't respond, too focused on the motorcycle engine I was fixing. "Jason, don't make me come up there," she warned. I accidentally hit my head on my desk, and swore loudly as a few of my tools crashed down to the floor. I sighed and stood up, wiping my oily hands on my already dirty jeans. I walked downstairs, running my fingers through my messy dark hair. I yawned and smiled at my mom.

"Yeah?"

"You should be dressed," she noted. I raised my eyebrows.

"I am dressed," I said, and before she could respond, I remembered, "Besides, it's Saturday." I settled myself on the couch and took the TV remote. "What'd you wake me up for?" I knew she wouldn't believe that I was actually sleeping, but it was always worth a try. Mom laughed. She hadn't believed it.

"You weren't asleep and you know it," she replied.

"Maybe," I answered, my face impassive. Like I was going to contradict myself. Yeah, right. Mom rolled her eyes.

"You were just playing around with that car engine again," she said. I sighed visibly and turned around, a look of exasperation on my face.

"I don't 'play around' with machinery, Mom," I said, shaking my head in despair. "I fix it. And it's a motorcycle engine, for your information," I retorted.

"Jase, I have a meeting."

"There's a shocker," I mumbled. She sighed.

"All right," she said, grabbing her keys and heading for the door. "Bye!" I lay back down on the couch, closing my eyes.

_Wait a minute…_

"Mom!" I called out the door. "Mom, wait!" She turned at the sound of my voice.

"Jason, I'll be late."

"Is this…a Board of Directors meeting?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes," she answered, unlocking the car. She opened the door.

"Well…okay," I said. "Have fun. Tell Tony Stark hi." Mom's smile wilted, but the next second, I figured that I must've imagined it, because she gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"If he's there," she said quietly. "I'll see you later." I gave her a slight nod and stood back.

_All right._

After watching her car disappear into the distance, I heaved a sigh and walked inside, closing the door behind me.

_What does she keep hiding from me?_

* * *

Hearing a car engine approaching, I frowned.

_There's no way she's home yet. It's way too early._

I laid the TV remote back on the couch and looked out the window. A dark-skinned man wearing the suit of some army general was talking to a man inside of a black limousine. My dark eyes widened.

_Damn._

The man waved to whoever was driving, and headed towards the house. He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, biting his lip.

_What's he waiting for?_ I wondered. I heard him knock on the door, and I walked over and opened it, staring into the face of the man I had been watching.

"Um…hi…" I said, confused. "Who-"

"-Are you?" he finished, looking at me with equal confusion. I said nothing as he scanned my black hair, pale skin, and deep brown eyes. I continued to frown, even when the man smiled at me. "I'm looking for a Ms. Virginia Potts."

My body immediately tensed. Why did some guy from the army need to see my mother?

"She's not here," I said coolly, starting to close the door. But before I slammed it in his face, the man caught it.

"Hang on, kid," he said. "Who are you?" I eyed him warily, remaining silent.

"I asked you first."

"Colonel James Rhodes," he said gently. "I'm an old friend of hers." And I did vaguely remember Mom mentioning the name Rhodes, so I let him in.

"My name's Jason," I said shortly, showing him to the couch. "You want anything to drink?" He shook his head, so I left, grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator, and headed up the stairs to my bedroom.

* * *

I sat down across from the colonel, trying to stay focused on the motorcycle engine in front of me. You see, I've always had this 'gift'…as my mother calls it…for fixing machines and car engines and stuff. I've actually gotten some good money for fixing things for people. The motorcycle engine in question belonged to a rough biker who looked as if he would knock me out if I refused to fix it.

Anyway…this guy…Colonel Rhodes…was staring at me like I was some exhibit in the Smithsonian, or something. Even weirder, it seemed like he was interested in me. I mean, not like that, but who I was. Like…I was some mystery that needed to be figured out. Let me tell you, it's the strangest thing, to feel like someone's gaze is piercing your skin. So I looked up and set my tools at my feet. I raised my eyebrows at Rhodes.

"Could you stop staring for at least a minute?" I asked exasperatedly, relaxing in my usual chair by the TV. He blinked and then smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," he said with a slight laugh. "I just haven't seen your mom for nearly seventeen years, now. I didn't realize she had a son."

"Well, goody for you," I grumbled.

"Pepper was always a great friend," he continued, as if he hadn't heard me. "Always kept Tony in line." I frowned at that. Pepper? I knew vaguely that before I was born, my mother had been Tony Stark's Personal Assistant and sometime CEO of Stark Industries. But then she had me…and moved out here to New York to be with her parents. She got a job at the New York branch of the company and had been on the Board of Directors since I could remember. So…if he knew her as Pepper…and knew Tony Stark…the colonel could only be…

"You're from Los Angeles," I said after a second, "From Stark Industries. What do you want with my mother?"

"I just wanted to see her," he said simply. My eyes flared.

"Bullshit," I said quietly. "Tell me the truth."

"Well…I wanted to see for myself that the rumors were true," Rhodes said. I frowned, my eyes darkening. Somehow I knew that this had to do with me.

"What rumors?"

"That Pepper Potts had a son. Since I don't remember you, you must be about…fifteen…sixteen?" he asked. I nodded silently.

"Sixteen this May," I said, picking up my screwdriver and toying with it. I didn't feel like looking Rhodes in the eyes. When I chanced a small look at him, he was smiling, satisfied, as if I had just confirmed something that he had known, deep down, all along.

"So…you're a junior?" he asked neutrally.

"Sophomore," I replied, not looking up from my screwdriver. Then I smirked. "In college." I slightly looked up to see his reaction, and to my disappointment, he didn't look surprised at all. Had he been expecting it? I frowned again and laid my screwdriver on top of the engine. For the first time, I didn't avoid his glance and looked straight at him. I didn't know what to be looking for, exactly, but still… "Why are you here?"

"You've never met your father, have you?" Rhodes asked me. I raised my eyebrows.

"That's none of your business," I said harshly, looking away once again.

"But you haven't," he prodded.

"You don't know my father," I said heavily. "My mother barely knew him. I've never met him. And I don't care."

Maybe Rhodes had given up, because the next thing he asked me was, "You like mechanics?" I nodded.

"The one thing I'm good at," I replied. "Plus, the pay is considerable. I dunno…it's always been my strong point. I'm all right at English, but math and stuff…huh. I sound like the typical geek. But it's true." I sighed heavily, feeling a weight lifted off my chest. Maybe because I felt like I could never talk to my mother. As much as I hated to admit it…Rhodes had me pegged from the beginning. I had never met my father…and if I ever did…I would want to punch him in the face for leaving my mother.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, that I barely noticed another man coming up the stairs. This man had salt-and-pepper hair and deep brown eyes…like mine. He was probably in his early fifties, or so. As I stood up, he pushed the door open. I quickly ducked behind the stairs that led up to my room. I wasn't sure if he'd seen me. I turned my head slightly as the man turned to Rhodes.

I heard him ask, "What's taking so long?" And then the man slightly rotated, and his face was put into my line of sight. My heart pounding in my chest, I stared, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me.

Tony Stark was standing in my living room.

* * *

Well, I thought it was a clever idea, at least. I know it's confusing, since I've already written the storyline differently, but I wrote this last summer, and couldn't resist posting it.

Anyway, let me know what you think.

Thanks-

Nestaron (Jason)


	2. I Meet My Dad

Okay, so I think this took longer to post than I had originally planned, sorry about that. I've been sort of busy. (As in hockey, tons of school tests, longer robotics meetings, TV production stuff...)

Anyway, I'm glad that you guys read and reviewed it, I'm glad you liked it. I have to say that I wasn't too sure about it when I first write it a long time ago, but you guys have all had positive responses.

I'm not sure if this chapter is AS good, but hopefully you'll still like it.

* * *

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

_I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, that I barely noticed another man coming up the stairs. This man had salt-and-pepper hair and deep brown eyes…like mine. He was probably in his early fifties, or so. As I stood up, he pushed the door open. I quickly ducked behind the stairs that led up to my room. I wasn't sure if he'd seen me. I turned my head slightly as the man turned to Rhodes._

_I heard him ask, "What's taking so long?" And then the man slightly rotated, and his face was put into my line of sight. My heart pounding in my chest, I stared, convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me._

_Tony Stark was standing in my living room._

* * *

I looked away again, closing my eyes and breathing slowly.

_Of course_, I thought. _He was supposed to be here for a meeting…but wouldn't he know that the meeting would be at Stark Industries? Surely not at Virginia Potts' house, of all places…unless…he had another agenda completely._

As my mind was working frantically, searching the depths of my brain…another thought hit me.

Was Tony Stark…was he…my father?

_No_, I assured myself. _Mom had enough sense than to sleep with her boss. It's just not possible._

But that was easier said than done, I suppose, because the circumstances were suspicious. I was a fifteen-year-old college sophomore with extraordinary mechanical talent, and I knew that Stark himself had been the same. I had the same black hair and brown eyes that he was so famous for, along with the natural wit and charm that I couldn't help even if I wanted to.

I leaned flat against the wall, praying that he couldn't see me. My heart beating furiously, I swallowed and tried to relax. But I didn't see how I could. All these questions were running a marathon on my brain, so many that I couldn't think clearly. What had my mother always been hiding? Well…that one…that I'd been asking myself for years…I now knew the answer. I had always assumed that she didn't really know my father. But if half the stories about Tony Stark and his assistant, Virginia "Pepper" Potts, were true…she did. Why didn't she tell me? Maybe she was ashamed. I dunno…there could be million reasons.

Then came the questions I had no answers to whatsoever. What do I do now? What happens when Mom comes home? How can I admit to her, yell about why she never trusted me enough to tell me who my father is? How could I even listen to her answer? Would it be so true…so horrible…that I wouldn't want to hear it?

I shuddered, only noticing then that my entire body had been shaking. My face was wet…why was my face wet? It was a full minute before I realized that I was crying. I was backed into a corner. Tony Stark was in my house…and I had nowhere to go. I gritted my teeth and warily wiped the tears from my eyes, looking back at them from my hiding place.

"So…he really is…" Stark said, his voice questioning. "Pepper…and…me?" I smirked.

_No shit, Sherlock._

"Why didn't she ever tell me?" he continued, looking at Rhodes with a desperate expression. But I'd had enough. I stepped out of my hiding place, just behind him. Rhodes had been opening his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw me.

"The better question…" I said quietly, "Is why didn't she ever tell me?" Stark spun around, his brown eyes wide. He gaped at me, a screwdriver tilting dangerously in his hand. I stared at him for a minute before realizing that the tool was mine. I took a few steps forward, talking it from him. "That's mine," I muttered under my breath, glaring at him. He silently pointed from me back to the screwdriver, but I set it down by the engine and, ignoring the both of them, headed back upstairs to the comfort of my room.

* * *

"Jason," my mother's muffled voice said desperately. "Jason, open the door." I ignored her and stared out the window of my room, wishing that I'd brought the engine with me. I picked up a useless wrench that had broken because I'd dropped a car battery on it. The battery in question was leaning up against the wall opposite me, nothing more than a decoration.

My mother banged on the door again, and I could just imagine her impatiently brushing a wisp of her strawberry-blond hair out of her startlingly blue eyes. But when she called my name again, I frowned. She hadn't ever sounded like that before. Was she…crying?

I warily slid off my bed and unlocked the door, opening it slightly, just so she could see my face. When I saw that tears were indeed streaming down her pale face, I stepped out, my own eyes widened.

I'm about the same height as her when she's wearing her heels (which is almost all the time) but when she's not, I'm taller than her. But I barely noticed that she wasn't wearing them, because I was in such shock that my mother, Virginia Potts, was crying. She simply wrapped her arms around my waist and closed her eyes, her thin body shaking.

Mom had always begin strong…probably for me. But seeing her like this…seeing her this helpless…it made my blood boil. I knew why she was crying. His name was Tony Stark, and he was currently standing in my living room. My dark eyes full of hatred, I let out a sound between a swearword and a low growl. My mother let go and looked up into my brown eyes…my brown eyes that I knew were just like Tony Stark's.

"Mom-"

"No, Jason," she said quietly, brushing my black hair out of my face. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I asked, outraged. "Mom, he's the one that should be sorry!"

"Jase…there's so much you don't know," she said softly, "It's not his fault." I stared at her, disbelieving.

"What's there to know?" I breathed angrily. "He gets you knocked up and doesn't stick around. What else is there?"

But in my heart…or maybe in my mind…something told me that she was right. I just…didn't want to listen. If I could blame Stark for my problems…I would.

"You need to understand both sides of the story," Mom said pleadingly. I hesitated and looked intensely into her eyes. I couldn't refuse her if I tried. I nodded subtly, looking away, as if I had something to be ashamed of. And…maybe I did, you know? I felt dirty…tainted…contaminated. But at the same time…I didn't know what to feel. Should I have been angry? Sad?

"Okay," I finally agreed, my voice hoarse. She took my hand gently and led my unwilling body down the stairs.

_What happens next? Knowing me…it'll be more than I can handle. Or at least more than I think I can._

* * *

I looked scathingly at Tony Stark as I sat down on the couch beside my mother, picking up my screwdriver as an excuse to avoid the glances I knew everyone was giving me. As I moved to work on the engine, Mom placed her pale hand over mine. It wasn't the right time to be working…and I knew it.

"Jason…" she asked me quietly, "Do you have any questions?" I looked over at her an leaned back into the couch.

"What do you think?" I retorted angrily.

"Jason…" she warned.

"Of course!" I cried out. "Millions! I don't even know where to start!" Then Colonel James Rhodes looked at me with a strange expression. Was it…sympathy? He exchanged glances with the billionaire on his left.

And then, in a voice so soft I could barely hear it, Stark suggested, "Why don't we start from the beginning?"

"All right, then," Mom said, her voice nothing but professional, trying to avoid his glance. Then she looked at him apprehensively. "Please, minus the details." Stark smirked, and I felt a sense of foreboding. I could tell that he was struggling against saying whatever was on his mind, for I knew the expression only too well.

"Is that an insinuation, Potts?" he asked, an air of what was presumably his younger self appearing in on the surface. I was out of my seat in seconds, ready to fight it out. And I would have, if Mom hadn't held my hands back. She gently pushed me back down onto the couch.

"We need to hear him out," she insisted quietly. "You do. It's not Tony's fault."

_It's all his fault_, I argued silently. _But you've always been in love with him. You can't see it, Mom. Am I alone?_

"Everything's his fault," I muttered, glaring daggers at him. I left the room and slammed the door, taking off at a run.

* * *

I think I made Tony different than what you might've expected, but after hours (yes, hours) of revising, that was where I ended up. And sorry if I made Jason a little different than how he was in the first chapter.

But in chapter 3, things will start to heat up and the main villain will be introduced, all that great stuff. (Yes, there will be a villain)

Hoping for more reviews,

William D. J. Watson (Jason Kent or Nestaron Kent, if you remember me from the old days)


	3. I Get Dragged to Supposed Safety

Yay, the 3rd chapter! And I only posted chapter 2 a few days ago! Hopefully it's worth all the work I put in.

I really want to thank all those people that reviewed, it makes me happy :)

And, as **RonWeasleyismiking** pointed out to me, I did make Tony an ass. And I know that perfectly well. In all fairness, a lot of the time he is. (Still such a cool guy, who cares if he's an ass?)

* * *

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

_And then, in a voice so soft I could barely hear it, Stark suggested, "Why don't we start from the beginning?"_

"_All right, then," Mom said, her voice nothing but professional, trying to avoid his glance. Then she looked at him apprehensively. "Please, minus the details." Stark smirked, and I felt a sense of foreboding. I could tell that he was struggling against saying whatever was on his mind, for I knew the expression only too well. _

"_Is that an insinuation, Potts?" he asked, an air of what was presumably his younger self appearing in on the surface. I was out of my seat in seconds, ready to fight it out. And I would have, if Mom hadn't held my hands back. She gently pushed me back down onto the couch._

"_We need to hear him out," she insisted quietly. "You do. It's not Tony's fault."_

_It's all his fault, I argued silently. But you've always been in love with him. You can't see it, Mom. Am I alone?_

"_Everything's his fault," I muttered, glaring daggers at him. I left the room and slammed the door, taking off at a run._

* * *

I wiped sweat from my forehead and continued to run, looking at the watch on my wrist. I had been at the local high school's track for three hours. Slowing down, I coughed and flopped down on the shady grass to the side. I closed my eyes, feeling the cool air blow across my face. But as I put my hands behind my head and was about to relax, I tensed. Something…different…was in the air. I didn't know how…but I felt something. Something wasn't right.

I opened my eyes and stood up, slowly turning around. There was a man standing on the other side of the street, and he was staring straight at me. I tilted my head in confusion and took a few steps backward. He took a few steps towards me. I frowned. See, it's not unusual for people to look at me; I've gotten a lot of double takes over the years, whether it was because of my mechanical talent or my face, which looked strangely like Tony Stark's.

But I had a feeling…just a gut instinct…that his stare wasn't good…and definitely not innocent. He had these eyes that pierced my skin with ice-cold daggers. I had a feeling like I was missing something…but there was one think I did know.

I was in deep shit.

I backed up a few steps more and then dashed. Running at my full speed, there was no way some bald, old, bearded guy could catch me. But even as I was running, his face, that hard, cold face remained etched in my brain.

Yet, I had the strangest feeling…like I knew him. I'd seen him before…somewhere. Maybe not in person…but I knew that I recognized him.

Taking a few detours and less-known roads, I finally reached my house, my heart bounding with (though I wasn't sure why) fear. I burst through the front door, gasping for breath, not even remembering why I'd taken off in the first place.

Once I looked up, I remembered, but Tony Stark hardly mattered right now. My mother stood up immediately, her eyes wide, the worried look on her face vanishing. As she wrapped her arms around my waist and stroked my hair, I looked over her shoulder at the man who I knew to be my father and glared at him. My feelings toward him had not changed…but somehow I knew it was the wrong time. Stark was watching me intently, his friend Rhodes looking at Mom and I with something similar to sympathy.

"Never…never do that to me again," Mom whispered into my ear. She was shaking, and I felt tears on my cheek that I knew weren't mine. Now I was confused.

"Mom…" I said slowly, "What's going on? Does this-"

I stopped, realizing what I was about to ask. _Does this have anything to do with that man I saw? _

I looked into her blue eyes that were wide with fear…and I knew this went beyond me running out on them. Stark stood up and walked over to us. His face was grim, and I faced him, my heart beating loudly in my chest. Whatever he was about to tell me…I knew it wasn't going to be good.

"Look…I know you don't care much for me," he said quietly. "And I understand. But you…you've drawn attention from all angles." I shrugged, nonplussed.

_Oh…kay…_

"So?"

"You're in danger," he said flatly. "You need to keep your eyes open." My mouth slid open, a million questions resting on the tip of my tongue.

"Danger?" I managed to ask, my eyebrows rising.

"A fifteen year old college sophomore, doing things at MIT that haven't been done before," he said, staring into my eyes as if he could read my thoughts. "He's not stupid. He's not ignorant. And he can damn well add two-and-two together. I should know-he was my most trusted friend…long ago." He bit his lip and his eyes quickly darted to my mother. "It's only a matter of time before he comes after you." Mom grasped my arm, but I hardly noticed. Something was happening in my mind…something had been triggered.

_Trusted friend…long ago_, a voice that I recognized as a ghostly version of my own whispered into my ear. _Stane_, it said_. Obadiah Stane._

I frowned and blinked, figuring it was better to stay as dumb as possible. The image of Stane staring at me was still etched into my brain.

"This man…was he bald?"

"Yes," Mom intervened. And then her eyes widened again. "Oh, God. Jason, you've seen him." I nodded silently, my eyes avoiding hers. Stark looked at her meaningfully.

"There's no other option, Pepper," he said, his voice shaking. "He knows where you are." He looked back at me. "You need to come with me." I stayed still, staring at him, wide-eyed. "Now!"

Rhodes, Mom, and I followed Stark out of the house, and climbed into his limo. As we worked on strapping ourselves in, the driver looked back and smiled at Mom with disbelief.

"Drive, Hogan," Stark ordered, his voice holding none of the warmth that I had subtly detected earlier. Now, it was full of worry. "Step on it." As we sped away, I looked back longingly at our house. I had no idea when we'd be back…if we ever would.

* * *

The next few hours were a blur. Everything seemed to go so fast…but time didn't seem to be moving.

We were whisked onto a plane bound for Los Angeles, California. I'd had to leave everything behind. On the plane, I think I might've fallen asleep, but I'd noticed Tony Stark staring at my mother and then at me. I also noticed…that my mother was staring back at him. It was almost like…they had been lovers. Not just…I dunno. I'd always assumed I was the product of a one-night stand, and my mother hadn't had the heart to get rid of me. It sucks to think of yourself that way, trust me, but it's always what I'd thought.

But the way he looked at her…was it hurt? Was it disbelief? And the way she looked at him…well, Mom was a mess. Her hair was in disarray, her normally neat clothing wrinkled. She looked at him like she was about to burst into tears…but she couldn't. Rhodes was still staring at me with pity. I forced a smile, but I don't think he expected me to. After all…a man believed to be dead showed me that he was very much alive…and hungry for revenge. How would he get that revenge? We didn't know, but we did know that it had something to do with me.

And, according to Stark, that was why I was being uprooted to Los Angeles, where a closer watch could be kept on me. Neither Mom nor I would be able to leave his Malibu mansion.

We landed on a "secret" platform at Edwards Air Force Base, able to slide pat the radar. We were driven to the mansion in an "inconspicuous" car. (Hogan, Stark's driver, apparently owned a '04 Honda.) Not exactly on my favorite car list, but I understood the need for it as much as the next guy. Driving around in all these fancy cars, you'll stand out. But with a regular car, you'll blend in with the rest of America's working class. And that was exactly what we wanted.

I was given a room and told not to go outside, if it could be avoided. Some of my stuff had been hauled out from New York so I could still somewhat have a life. What was most important…was absolute secrecy. No one could know that Obadiah Stane, Stark's old enemy, was after me, Stark's only son.

Why? Who knows, right? We'd basically agreed that it couldn't be to get to him. Stark hadn't known of my existence until a few years ago, at most. He probably knew when I started MIT. Mom…well…when she agreed for me to attend college, I'm sure she knew it was only a matter of time before he sought us out. We never thought that it would be for another reason. I never thought I would need my father to keep me safe.

* * *

I know that there wasn't much dialogue, and bringing Obadiah back was a stupid thing to do, but I justify that as homage to Jeff Bridges, who recently won the Oscar for Best Actor in a Leading Role. And I wanted to congratulate him on that, so here he is as awesomely evil as Obadiah Stane/ Iron Monger.

And I wish also that I had made Tony a bit better than I did, but as this is from Jason's point of view, and he basically hates Tony's guts, so of course he's going to make him out to be a bit of an ass.

That will change, though.

Eventually.

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing-

William D. J. Watson


	4. My Mother Admits The Semi Truth

Hey you guys, thank for the reviews that I've gotten so far, it really means a lot. And yay, this is the fourth chapter, and my second chapter in two days! (I'm so proud of myself...) *sniffles*

If anyone's in AP Euro...you have experienced HELL, my friends. I pity you, as well as I pity myself. :)

* * *

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

_I was given a room and told not to go outside, if it could be avoided. Some of my stuff had been hauled out from New York so I could still somewhat have a life. What was most important…was absolute secrecy. No one could know that Obadiah Stane, Stark's old enemy, was after me, Stark's only son._

_Why? Who knows, right? We'd basically agreed that it couldn't be to get to him. Stark hadn't known of my existence until a few years ago, at most. He probably knew when I started MIT. Mom…well…when she agreed for me to attend college, I'm sure she knew it was only a matter of time before he sought us out. We never thought that it would be for another reason. I never thought I would need my father to keep me safe._

* * *

I stood on the balcony connected to my room, the crisp February breeze blowing through my black hair. The light wind rippled my t-shirt, which read MIT.

"Hey," said my mother's gentle voice from behind me. I turned around and smiled slightly.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" she asked, approaching me cautiously. I nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah," I said, exhaling. "I think so." After a moment, I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you?" She didn't answer. "Mom?"

"Jason…I honestly don't know."

"Mom, I'm sorry," I said quietly, though I didn't know exactly what I was apologizing for. "I never thought…I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," she said, though I'm sure she just said it as a reflex. I remained silent, feeling the cool air on my face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, my voice soft and sad. "Mom, why didn't you trust me?"

"Jase…I trust you with my life," she breathed, her mouth forming into an unwilling smile. She brushed her light orange hair out of her face. "I just thought…the less you knew…" I bit my lip.

"Mom…" I said. She let a small laugh escape her lips.

"When you were little…Iron Man was your hero," Mom said. I nodded silently.

"I know," I admitted after a minute. "But that doesn't explain anything. I would've been happy…ecstatic even…if he was my dad."

"That's not why," she said quietly. I fell silent once again. I guess parents always have that gift of making you shut up without having to yell at the top of their lungs. "As you got older, and more talented…" She broke off, tears rapidly falling down her pale cheeks. "God, there were so many times I wanted to tell you. There were so many times I almost did."

"Then why didn't you?" I asked, my voice low and bitter.

"I thought it was better for you to think that he was gone," she said honestly, "Rather than knowing he was out there…but not with us." Finally understanding, I nodded solemnly. Then a thought struck me.

"Mom…if you wanted to hold me back…why'd you sent me to MIT?"

"_Never_, Jason," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "I _never_ wanted to hold you back. I just…I didn't want you to feel…unwanted. Unloved."

"None of this makes any sense," I muttered sullenly. Mom rubbed her forehead and sighed, sitting on the edge of my new bed.

"I know," she whispered as I sat down next to her, bending down and putting my head in my hands. I ran my fingers through my black hair, which I now knew I had inherited from Tony Stark…the man I was growing to despise. Mom's hand closed around mine, and I looked up, my brown eyes searching her blue ones.

"What?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"Jase, never think that I meant for any of this to happen," she said softly, her hand brushing hair out of my eyes. "You were the best thing that ever happened to me, don't get me wrong…but I never meant for you to find out this way."

"Mom, sometimes things happen," I said, standing up and staring out the window that was overlooking the sea. "And sometimes there's nothing we can do to change it." I looked back at her, and she smiled sadly. My voice lowered, and I said, probably more to myself than to anyone else, "Sometimes things were always meant to happen." I stared out the window once again, my own voice echoing in my head.

_Sometimes things were just meant to happen._

* * *

I absently traced my fingers across the clear windowpane that guarded the living room from the sea below it. I frowned as I noticed, past the waterfall, a stairway that led down…somewhere. I hadn't noticed it before. I cautiously walked over to it, stepping down one stair. When I was sure that nothing unusual would happen, I walked down the rest of the staircase and found myself staring at, behind a glass door, the most impressive workshop I'd ever set eyes on. I knew immediately that this was Stark's workshop…where he'd built everything from weapons to his many Iron Man suits.

As I stepped closer, a fingerpad identification thing popped up. Surprised though I was, I kept calm. I swore under my breath, but before I lifted my hand to try a code, the door swung open. Confused, I walked in. (I know, you're probably thinking, "Wise choice, Jason. Walking into a dark room that was supposed to be locked.")

"Mr. Stark?" I called. "Are you in here?" I got nothing in response. I frowned, but walked farther in. In the corner, some early designs and prototypes of the Iron Man suit were hanging from the ceiling. As old as I was, and having long left my superhero obsession behind, I couldn't help my jaw dropping wide as it would have if I'd been eight years old.

I looked around until I saw a desk covered with old VHS tapes, photos, and newspaper clippings. I slowly walked over to it and carefully picked up an old picture frame with a photo of two adults with a smiling little boy…a smiling little boy with black hair and deep brown eyes. My mouth opened and my eyes, that were a reflection of the boy's, grew large. I studied the parents, and I realized with a pang that the father was Howard Stark…my grandfather. My eyes darted to a yellowed newspaper clipping that announced the death of "business mogul" Howard Stark and his wife, Maria, leaving behind their seventeen-year-old son to mourn and the elder Stark's trusted friend Obadiah Stane to run the company. My eyes narrowed angrily and the mention of Stane. Sickened, I put the clipping down and looked away.

Tony Stark…was nothing like I had thought he was. Everyone…everyone always seemed to know exactly who he was. He was a playboy, a billionaire…he seemed to have it all. And I think that it had even gotten to the point that he had even fooled himself. But maybe he hadn't gotten over his parents' death. Maybe some part of him was still that seventeen-year-old boy who was grieving…alone. Maybe…all that I had ever believed about him was a lie, a façade.

Was it possible…it truly wasn't his fault?

Did he honestly not abandon my mother?

_He must have_, I convinced myself silently. _There's no other reason. There can't be another reason._

"Thought I'd find you in the shop," said a voice behind me. I swung around, my eyes opening even wider. Tony Stark chanced a smile at me, one I hesitantly returned.

* * *

There it is, chapter 4! Did you like it? (Because I liked writing it...) Let me know! (REVIEW!)

Umm...I wanted to invite all you readers to join the Dark Side because we (apparently) have cookies. And I don't know about you, but I seriously like cookies, and DAMN their cookies are good.

I'll have chapter 5 posted really soon, so you don't have to wait for it THAT long. I want to get everything posted before we go to our Robotics competition this Thursday-Friday.

Thanks

-William D. J. Watson


	5. Our Conversation Takes a Surprising Turn

Okay, three posts in THREE DAYS! Am I beast or what??

Um...I guess I'm supposed to give an update on my life...what am I supposed to say? I went on fanfiction during my English class today because I already finished my intro and body paragraph...(over acheiver, yes I am.) Actually, I thought it was due. Damn. Pulled an all nighter to catch up on my history homework then forgot my notebook at home. :-(

Oh yeah...I start Tae Kwon Do tonight. Is anyone else in it? I want to know if I'm going to get beat up or not :-)

Robotics competition tomorrow! WE WILL WIN! (Besides, or robot has the coolest name-The Hitchhiker!!) That's a tribute to Marvin, I think. If you don't know who Marvin is...ask. Please.

"I thought you ought to know...I'm feeling very depressed." -Marvin

Anyway, on with chapter 5!

* * *

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

_Tony Stark…was nothing like I had thought he was. Everyone…everyone always seemed to know exactly who he was. He was a playboy, a billionaire…he seemed to have it all. And I think that it had even gotten to the point that he had even fooled himself. But maybe he hadn't gotten over his parents' death. Maybe some part of him was still that seventeen-year-old boy who was grieving…alone. Maybe…all that I had ever believed about him was a lie, a façade. _

_Was it possible…it truly wasn't his fault?_

_Did he honestly not abandon my mother?_

He must have_, I convinced myself silently. _There's no other reason. There can't be another reason.

"_Thought I'd find you in the shop," said a voice behind me. I swung around, my eyes opening even wider. Tony Stark chanced a smile at me, one I hesitantly returned._

* * *

"Oh, hi," I said quietly. I gently set the picture frame down, saying, "I'm sorry. I just…"

"I don't blame you," he said, walking towards me. "It's in your nature."

"Yeah," I said absently, still staring at, for the first time in my life, my father's family. "How can all this…be possible?" I asked, my voice catching. "How did I never…" I looked at him, and then quickly looked away. "How did I never notice this?" Stark pursed his lips, not sure what to say.

"I've been playing close attention to you for two years," he said neutrally. When I still frowned, confused, his face broke out into a grin. "You got into MIT when you were thirteen."

"Oh…right," I mumbled. "That."

"Maybe I should've told you sooner, Jason," he said gently. "But I was afraid…"

"Afraid of what?"

"Your reaction," Stark admitted. "And judging by how you ran off, back in New York…I think I was right. But now…you're calmer. Maybe…" He trailed off, and I noticed his eyes drift to the picture of his younger self. I smiled slightly, despite how I felt.

"I was a kid who always thought of himself as abnormal," I said quietly, not realizing what I was saying until it was too late to take it back. "I was always considered a freak…and the worst part was…I didn't know why. I knew I was smarter…but I didn't know what was so wrong with that. When I went to college…I was only thirteen. Everyone else was so much older…but the professors expected so much more from me. They expected me to-"

"-Be me?" he suggested, his voice soft. I nodded slowly.

"Yeah…I suppose." I looked at him cautiously. "They probably knew…didn't they? Even though I didn't. And I was right there…in the place you were when you were my age." I ran my fingers through my hair angrily, mad at my own ignorance. "How did I not see it before?"

"Jason…" But he didn't know what to say. No one ever knew what to say. I breathed in heavily and exhaled, looking back up.

"I can't go back…can I?"

"Not now," Stark said, running his fingers through his own black hair that was streaked with grey. "After we catch Stane." He studied me quizzically. "But you don't want to…do you?" I frowned, thinking.

I did want to return to the college lifestyle that I considered normal…didn't I? Or was I afraid of it? Now that I knew for sure who my father was…did I want to break the streak, just to prove that I could?

"When I was younger…" I said, "I idolized you. At first…just Iron Man. But later…the real you." He smiled gently.

"You mean…the 'me' that's portrayed in the tabloids," he corrected, shamefully stuffing his hands in his pockets. I shook my head slowly.

"No," I said simply. "Just you."

"How?"

"I didn't care if you'd been with a million girls," I said, shrugging. "What mattered to me…was that you'd been through the same things as me. You knew what it was like to be different. All I cared about…was knowing that I wasn't alone. That someone else…was like me."

"There's a lot about me…that even you don't know," Stark said. At first, I was angry, but then I realized that he wasn't trying to cut me down. His voice was quiet, and as he looked at the pictures behind me again, I saw him wipe a small tear from his eye…and I realized he was right. As the tabloids portrayed Tony Stark…superficial…selfish…it wasn't right at all. They had it all wrong. Who he was…was a man who had kept so much bottled up over the years…more hurt and grief than he cared to admit. "A lot no one knows," he finished bitterly.

"Are we still talking about me?" I asked, frowning. "Or is this about someone else?"

"I'm sorry, Jason," he said, forcing a smile. "You don't deserve this. You deserve better than the pathetic likes of me for a father. You-"

"Don't," I said, cutting across him. He stared at me.

"Don't what?"

"Don't bring yourself down like that," I said softly. "_You_ deserve better." He continued to stare at me, stunned. Honestly, I think I was just as amazed to hear those words come out of my mouth. I hated him, didn't I? I wanted to punch him in the face. But…seeing his pitiful figure standing in front of me…I couldn't bring myself to do it. Stark smiled.

"You've got a lot of your mother in you," he said after a minute, as if it was an answer to my unasked questions. "More than you know." I snorted.

"She always told me the same thing…about you," I answered, laughing, the first time I had done so since leaving New York. But my true smile faded as quickly as it had come. "I guess she was right."

"Don't blame yourself," he said. "I've learned that it doesn't usually go over well."

"Then whose fault is the whole thing?" I asked, sighing heavily. "If it's not you, it's not Mom, and it's not me…then who is it?" I sat down on Stark's couch, my head in my hands. "I've got to blame someone."

"For what it's worth…I'm sorry," Stark said regretfully. "Maybe if I'd gone after your mother…"

"What?"

"…things would be different."

"_What_?"

"She never told you?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "But-"

"You didn't leave _her_?" I asked, outraged. "She left _you_?" He closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

"We'd been together for a while," he recounted. "Then…one day…I found her resignation papers on the table. She'd left a pile of things for me to sign, my espresso…and the letter. All her stuff was gone…her apartment cleared out…the only thing I had to prove that she had ever existed was the note she left me." I stared at his sad expression that was almost one of longing.

"Why?"

"I didn't know for sure…until two years ago," Stark told me, his eyebrows raised. My eyes grew large.

"When I started at MIT," I said quietly, understanding.

"I loved her, Jason," he said, his voice sad and dejected. If he hadn't said my name, I would've been convinced that he talking to himself. "I never would've left her. Never. You…you've got to believe me." I looked at him, then back at the old photos and newspaper clippings on the desk…and then up at the mirror that I had just realized was there.

Standing up, I realized it was true; I was the spitting image of my father. My black hair, my brown eyes…they belonged to Tony Stark.

And then I knew at once that he was telling the truth. His parents had left him, but they didn't exactly have a choice. And Mom…Mom had no idea what it would've meant to him if he knew he had a son. I nodded silently, feeling hot tears trailing down my pale cheeks.

"I do believe you," I whispered, sure that he couldn't hear me. But he did. Stark smiled, a tear or two falling from his own brown eyes.

"Thank you," he said quietly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder for a moment…then let go. "Thanks." He left me standing by his desk and walked back up the stairs, a sad smile on his face.

_Am I sure who I am anymore?_

_I don't think so._

_Maybe I never knew._

* * *

Did you like the update? I know that a lot of you didn't like that I made Tony an ass at first, so this is for you guys who like the softer side of Iron Man. I still need to write/type the next chapter, so that one won't be up for a while. But I trust that this one's going to be enough to sustain you for a while. I hope.

And, for those of you that did join the Dark Side, I'm grateful. My goal is, and ALWAYS WILL BE world domination. Just thought I'd share that with you readers and people.

Anyone else out there in AP Euro? Class makes me feel like I have no life. And with the way all this homework is piling up...I won't have one.

Thanks for reading-

William D. J. Watson


	6. My Parents Confess Their Feelings

Hey, you guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to update! (Yes, two weeks is long...for me.) I finally got to type this out, so I hope you guys like it.

This is probably the scene that all you Tony/Pepper fans out there have been waiting for...I think. Sort of. So don't blame me if it goes...well, not the way you wanted it. But, as this story is about their kid, from his point of view...it's not going to be exactly how you pictured it.

This chapter also introduces another Iron Man character (from the movies) and Jason's thoughts on him (it?).

Um...thanks to the anonymous reviewer Rae, who recognized Marvin as a character from _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_, and thanks to all of you who understand my AP Euro nightmares. ;)

On with Chapter Six-

* * *

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

"_I loved her, Jason," he said, his voice sad and dejected. If he hadn't said my name, I would've been convinced that he talking to himself. "I never would've left her. Never. You…you've got to believe me." I looked at him, then back at the old photos and newspaper clippings on the desk…and then up at the mirror that I had just realized was there. _

_Standing up, I realized it was true; I was the spitting image of my father. My black hair, my brown eyes…they belonged to Tony Stark._

_And then I knew at once that he was telling the truth. His parents had left him, but they didn't exactly have a choice. And Mom…Mom had no idea what it would've meant to him if he knew he had a son. I nodded silently, feeling hot tears trailing down my pale cheeks._

"_I do believe you," I whispered, sure that he couldn't hear me. Stark smiled, a tear or two falling from his own brown eyes._

"_Thank you," he said quietly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder for a moment…then let go. "Thanks." He left me standing by his desk and walked back up the stairs, a sad smile on his face._

Am I sure who I am anymore?

I don't think so.

Maybe I never knew.

* * *

About a week later, I found myself wandering the large halls of Tony Stark's Malibu mansion. My footsteps penetrated the silence that filled the night. My heart was beating in my chest, and I stopped walking for minute…just to listen.

_That day at the track_, I'd realized, _I could've died._

I hadn't known how close I was to death. And the thought that someone was after me…made me realize…how luck I really was. I was alive. And I was unharmed. My beating heart constantly reminded me of it, and for that I was grateful.

I stared out the large, clear windowpane, into the distance. New York seemed a lifetime away from Los Angeles. Would I have to stay here for the rest of my life? Would I ever be able to go home? I turned away, feeling tears welling in my eyes. I was about to head back upstairs when I heard my mother's voice from down the hall. I frowned and quietly snuck up to the door.

"Tony…" she was saying. Her tone of voice…was one I didn't recognize. It was similar to how she talked to me…soft and kind…but so different. I wasn't completely sure what the difference was…but it was there.

"Pepper," he replied, his voice…(was it desperate?) "Why didn't you tell me? I would've- you know I would've…" He broke off, his voice uneven and shaky. I frowned sadly. As much as I still wanted to hate they guy, I was finding it more and more impossible.

"No," Mom said, and as I peeked through the crack in the door, she tucked a strand of her orange hair behind her ear, like I knew she did when she was nervous. "I was just like one of the others, Tony. We both knew it. I was scared. I didn't know what to do. I made up that excuse…and I moved back to New York." Stark walked closer to her, blocking her from my limited view. He stared at her like he was heartbroken.

"You weren't," he told her, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear. "I loved you, Pepper. If you'd stayed…things would be so different."

_Yeah_, I thought sarcastically. _I wouldn't be listening to you confessing your feelings through a closed door._

"I'm so sorry," Mom said, and my eyes widened with anger and disbelief. I wanted to yell, to cry out to her, to tell her to stay away from that double-crossing bastard…but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Something…I wasn't sure what…held me back.

I silently continued to watch them, only catching glimpses of the way they looked at each other. And I knew…the look was love. Not lust…but purely love…and I felt dizzy. My parents…my real parents…were falling in love all over again.

That's the kind of thing a kid with a single parent always hopes for. When I was younger…there were plenty of times I wished that I could know my father…and that we could all be a proper family. I thought that my feelings on that would never change. I would always want a normal family, right?

Wrong.

I didn't know what to feel. My legs felt like jelly, and my heart was beating so loudly that I was sure they could hear it.

I saw Stark's eyes…those brown eyes that he had passed on to me…search Mom's blue ones…and I could almost feel the tension that was building up. As they moved closer together, I wanted to shut my eyes. I wanted to do anything that was possible to stop what I knew would happen. As his lips touched hers, I looked away, not able to process it. I felt…sick.

Not caring if they heard me, I ran back up the hall and up the stairs, my body shaking. As I reached my room, I threw off my t-shirt and leaned on my desk, gripping the edges with my sweaty hands. I cleared my throat shakily, sighing loudly, trying to calm the vicious beating in my heart. I walked to the bathroom connected to the room and looked at my body in the mirror. My black hair was messy and long; my skin pale from the lack of sun. Some muscle had built up from the push-ups I had been doing as a way of venting my anger. And as I flexed my arm hesitantly, I suddenly didn't look like the skinny little nerd that I had grown to know. I looked like…my father. Only then did I realize exactly how much. I slightly relaxed, though still shaken up. I leaned on the counter and turned on the water, splashing some in my face.

"Rough night?" I heard a cool English voice ask me, seemingly coming out of nowhere. I spun around, my eyes wide. But no one else was in the room. I frowned. "My apologies," the voice continued. "I am Jarvis."

"Jarvis?" I asked blankly, racking my brain for any information that I had once known about Tony Stark. I did slightly remember the name… "Like…Edwin Jarvis?"

"Quite," came the response, the cool computer-esque voice sounding pleased. "That indeed is my namesake." I went back to looking at myself in the mirror as he (it?) spoke again. "You are much like him, sir."

"Um…thanks," I said, and then muttered under my breath, "I think." Jarvis said nothing, so I shut the bathroom door.

I heard footsteps coming down the hall, so I quickly shut off all the lights and lay down, crossing my arms over my chest, staring at the ceiling. I heard my door open, and I smelled my mother's familiar perfume. My dark eyes looked to where she had come in, just as she switched on the lights. I looked away almost immediately. Whatever she had to say…I'd decided I didn't want to hear it.

"Jason…I know you were listening," she admitted softly. "And watching," she added after a moment. I sat up, my face solemn. I didn't know what to say…even if I wanted to say anything. There was nothing I _could _say. Avoiding her glance, I picked up my t-shirt from the other side of the bed and slowly put it on.

"Yeah," I said simply, shrugging my shoulders carelessly. "So?"

"I…I need to tell you the truth," Mom said quietly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Even if you don't want to listen." But now my ears were wide open.

"The truth would be good," I said, my heart pounding heavily in my chest.

"I know you talked to Tony," she began. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged again. "And he told you…" She looked away, tears trailing down her cheeks. I grasped her hand with my own, heaving a sigh.

"Mom?"

"…When I learned I was pregnant with you…I left," she said softly, guiltily looking into my eyes. "Maybe I…maybe I should've told him, Jason. But I was scared. I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I left him a note, saying that maybe…I'd come back…some day."

"So he…was telling the truth," I said slowly. "It really…wasn't his fault at all." Mom shook her head silently.

"No."

"Mom…what happened?" I gestured to the door. "You know…when I wasn't supposed to be watching. Or listening."

"I don't know," she said quietly. "What happened…it was only my instinct. But after he kissed me…and I realized what had happened…I could only think of you. I thought of your reaction…and I told him that anything between us…was in the past." She caught my expression and smiled a little. "I'm guessing you didn't stick around for that part." I shook my head and let out a low laugh.

"You rejected him."

"I told him I loved him," Mom said, tears leaking out of her blue eyes. "But I also said that anything we ever had…Jason, I can't risk losing you...at the expense of my love for him, if that's how it has to be."

"You wouldn't," I said, not even fully hearing my words…not even fully understanding them. "Mom, all these years…he still loved you. All these years…he waited for you. If you know that you feel the same way…you won't lose me." I swallowed, glancing at the floor for a moment. Then I looked up, and brown eyes met blue. "Mom, you won't _ever _lose me."

"Oh, Jase," she whispered, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing my forehead. I felt so helpless ad my mother wiped her tears off my cheeks and buried her face in her hands.

What could I do?

Was there any way…that this could stop? Could I do anything to stop what was supposedly my death that was looming ever closer?

"It'll be all right," I said grimly, wiping tears from my eyes that I had just realized were falling. "I'm going to make sure…it's all going to be fine."

_Damn, I wish it were that easy._

* * *

Touching, dramatic...everything that embodies Iron Man...except for the kick-ass part. :) But don't worry...that part will be coming soon enough...muahahaha..........

Yes, I've been making progress on my plot of WORLD DOMINATION. I've just had my Spring Break, so I've spent my free time plotting the my takeover and (of course) writing fanfiction.

Any of you seen _Clash of the Titans_? (The new one) LOVED IT! So cool...did you guys recognize Lord Coward from _Sherlock Holmes _as one of the soldier guys? Because I did.

Anyway...I hope you guys liked the chapter, and any suggestions on what you're looking forward to with Jason, Tony, and Pepper, because I don't have all of the next chapter written yet. I'm not sure if I should do some more of this type of stuff, or start bringing in Obadiah. I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to bring him in yet either, so if you have any ideas, I'd really appreciate it.

Thanks-

William D. J. Watson


	7. I Talk to My Dad About Iron Man

Hey, you guys! Sorry for the long wait! Normally, I would've had this posted (well, earlier) but I've had a series of problems in this little thing called LIFE. But hopefully, that's all over now, and I can get to work on finishing all my IM stories before the second film comes out.

Whiplash should be incredibly cool. I bought the novel, but I've told myself that I'm not going to read it until AFTER I see the movie. Anyone else disagree?

Anyway...I hope you like the chapter...it was sort of hard for me to write. :)

* * *

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

"_You rejected him."_

"_I told him I loved him," Mom said, tears leaking out of her blue eyes. "But I also said that anything we ever had…Jason, I can't risk losing you...at the expense of my love for him, if that's how it has to be."_

"_You wouldn't," I said, not even fully hearing my words…not even fully understanding them. "Mom, all these years…he still loved you. All these years…he waited for you. If you know that you feel the same way…you won't lose me." I swallowed, glancing at the floor for a moment. Then I looked up, and brown eyes met blue. "Mom, you won't ever lose me."_

"_Oh, Jase," she whispered, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing my forehead. I felt so helpless as my mother wiped her tears off my cheeks and buried her face in her hands._

_What could I do?_

_Was there any way…that this could stop? Could I do anything to stop what was supposedly my death that was looming ever closer?_

"_It'll be all right," I said grimly, wiping tears from my eyes that I had just realized were falling. "I'm going to make sure…it's all going to be fine."_

Damn, I wish it were that easy.

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

"_Jason, get out of here!" A panicked Tony Stark in a beaten Iron Man suit frantically looked over at me. "Run!" I tried to take a few steps back, but I couldn't. Somehow, my feet were strapped to the ground. There was no way I could move…even if I wanted to. _

"_I can't!" I called back to him, but I don't think he heard me. He was looking back up at the sky, where a large…something…was flying in. I shielded my eyes as it landed, but the pavement shook from the impact, and I fell to the ground. Realizing that my feet had been freed, I scrambled behind the limo (why was the limo here?) and closed my eyes, listening to Stark fighting the machine I knew to be Stane. I wanted to call out to him, but I didn't dare. I knew that he was fighting for me. He was risking his life to protect me. After all I'd said, after all I'd done (Which was what, exactly?)…He was still willing to sacrifice his life for me. His brown eyes met mine…and I realized with a sudden jolt…_

_He loved me._

_He had always loved me._

I woke up, my pale body slick with sweat. My eyes shot open and scanned the relative familiarity that was my bedroom. I wiped my forehead, running my fingers through my hair, not yet used to the new shortness of it.

Throwing off the sheets, I stood up and stretched, walking to the bathroom. I switched on the light and sighed, my heart rate slowing. I stared into the mirror again, feeling (not for the first time) that it was laughing at me. Once again, I realized how much I truly did resemble my father. And with my hair cut short…it was even more obvious.

I breathed in heavily, finally remembering what had woken me up in the first place. My dream…when Tony Stark risked his life to save me. Did he really care that much? But he couldn't…could he?

"It's only a dream," I told myself under my breath. "Get a hold of yourself, Potts. It's just a dream."

Walking back into the room, I carefully put on my bathrobe and tied it around my waist. I cautiously opened the door, closing it silently behind me.

Even I didn't know where I was going. My feet padded down the hall, and I found myself in the living room, staring out over the ocean…off into the distance. I looked around at the shining white walls that surrounded me, and the large glass window in front, that gave the illusion that the world was opening itself up to me. Behind me was a waterfall that trickled down peacefully (while nice at times, it really made you hope that there was a bathroom down the hall) and beyond that, I knew, were the stairs that led down to Stark's workshop…where he kept the suit.

As I sat down on the couch, I noticed an old magazine lying on the table. Frowning slightly, I reached over and picked it up, and the headline made my eyes widen.

'**I am Iron Man,' **it read. I continued to frown, and my dark eyes scanned the page.

"Barely a week after weapons developer Tony Stark had returned from his three-month kidnapping, a fight took place in downtown Los Angeles, scaring some and enlightening others," I read under my breath, careful to keep it quiet. "But seen as one of those fighters was the figure of a man wearing a suit made out of what looked like red-and-gold metal. As the fight drew to a close, there was one thing people wanted to know more than anything else. Who is Iron Man?" My eyes continued to scan the rest of the page, and my expression became more troubled by each sentence I read.

"Really puts things into perspective," said a pensive (almost sarcastic) voice from behind me. I turned around, my nerves still getting the best of me. Stark pointed at me. "Nice haircut."

I made a face at him and went back to the article. "You just…told them?"

"Yeah," he admitted, digging his hands into his pockets shamefully. "If I'd known what trouble it'd cause me later…I never would've done it."

I raised my eyebrows. "You mean you regret being a hero?"

"That's not what I said," he muttered. "I only meant…"

"You can't have it both ways," I said quietly. "It's either you're a hero…or you're not. Pick one, Stark."

He raised his hands in surrender. After a moment of awkward silence, he asked, "That two ways thing…does it work in every aspect of your life?"

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not," he said neutrally. I raised my eyebrows higher.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What do you call this?" I asked. He opened his mouth to counter, but then shut it. I smirked. "That's what I thought."

"So…we're past the 'I want to kill you' phase?" Stark asked me cautiously. I set the magazine back on the table and turned around.

"Depends," I responded. "As my father, or as the man who fell for my mother?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Probably," I answered. "One has everything to do with how I feel. The other…it's not my business how you feel about each other."

"I'm surprised at you, Jason," he said, and his tone certainly sounded that way.

"Yeah?" I asked. "How?"

"Well…my first impression of you was that you're very protective of her," he said. I gritted my teeth. Damn. He had me backed into a corner.

"Your first impression was right," I countered. "But it has limits."

"Oh?"

"I see the way you two look at each other," I admitted, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "And I…well…I can't prevent your relationship. I don't know your history…I don't have your memories. I can't stop it from happening."

"Just say the word, kid, and I won't go near her," he promised.

"But I don't say so," I said, surprising even myself. "It's not my place."

"A few weeks ago…you wouldn't have said that," Stark said with a frown. "I know you wouldn't have." I stared out the window, closing my eyes, if only for a second.

"I know," I admitted quietly. "But things change." I blinked. "I mean…of course things change…but…"

"Things you never thought would change," he said, nodding in understanding. "Jason…" And the way he said my name gave me no choice but to turn around and look into his eyes. He gave me no choice other than to listen to him. I nearly grimaced when he placed a hand on my shoulder. "You have the best judgment out of anyone I've ever known. And I want to believe that I can trust you."

"You have no reason not to," I said, still wary of looking him in the eyes. I didn't need another reminder of how we were related. But as I stared at the floor, I felt something strange on my face. "I hope you can trust me," I said softly, blinking (were those tears?) out of my eyes.

He smiled at me tentatively, as if he wasn't sure what he should do. He sighed heavily and let his hand drop from my shoulder. "Get some rest, Jason," Stark said gently. "You're gonna need it." He flashed me a quick grin, and before I could respond, he had vanished down the stairs.

I smiled slightly to myself as I looked (once again) out the window…past the ocean. I closed my eyes, and as I listened to the occasional noises that came from the shop or maybe from the waves crashing against the cliff, I finally realized what had been bothering me the most. I opened them slowly and breathed out. Maybe I really didn't know who I was. Maybe I wasn't sure anymore who I was supposed to be. Or maybe I'd never really known.

And as I stared into the distance…into the shadows that held secrets that were better left hidden…I wondered…

_How can anyone trust me…if I don't fully trust myself?_

* * *

What did you think? I think I might've made Jason a little too emotional...I know that I don't cry that much. But then, both my parents have been perfectly honest with me about who they are. I think. As far as I know...

Anyway...remember to leave a review-This has been my most successful story so far, so I always look forward to really great reviews from it. That's why I'm always happy when I post the next chapter.

Up next...Jason and Tony prepare for a fight...and...something else that I can't remember. Spoilers! Gotta love them...mostly.

Anyone else interested in joining the dark side? Because we've got cookies!

Thanks in advance,

William D. J. Watson


	8. I Realize Things About My Younger Self

Wow, it's been a long time since I've posted anything to this story, hasn't it? I'm sorry for the wait, and I'm hoping that updates will become more frequent. I know that's not necessarily set in stone or anything, but I'd forgotten how much fun I'd had while writing this a few months ago. I've been busy, I guess. (But I get to go to Disneyland on Saturday, haha. I have to be a tour guide.. :)

Hopefully this chapter is worth it, anyway. This is my most sucessful story, and I hope my ratings stay up.

-IRON MAN-

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**…**

"_Jason…" And the way he said my name gave me no choice but to turn around and look into his eyes. He gave me no choice other than to listen to him. I nearly grimaced when he placed a hand on my shoulder. "You have the best judgment out of anyone I've ever known. And I want to believe that I can trust you."_

"_You have no reason not to," I said, still wary of looking him in the eyes. I didn't need another reminder of how we were related. But as I stared at the floor, I felt something strange on my face. "I hope you can trust me," I said softly, blinking (were those tears?) out of my eyes. _

_He smiled at me tentatively, as if he wasn't sure what he should do. He sighed heavily and let his hand drop from my shoulder. "Get some rest, Jason," Stark said gently. "You're gonna need it." He flashed me a quick grin, and before I could respond, he had vanished down the stairs._

_I smiled slightly to myself as I looked (once again) out the window…past the ocean. I closed my eyes, and as I listened to the occasional noises that came from the shop or maybe from the waves crashing against the cliff, I finally realized what had been bothering me the most. I opened them slowly and breathed out. Maybe I really didn't know who I was. Maybe I wasn't sure anymore who I was supposed to be. Or maybe I'd never really known._

_And as I stared into the distance…into the shadows that held secrets that were better left hidden…I wondered…_

How can anyone trust me…if I don't fully trust myself?

-IRON MAN-

After that last conversation with Stark…I found it harder and harder to avoid him, spending the majority of my time with him in the workshop. In all honesty, I can't remember how much of my childhood I spent wishing I could work there.

And then…all of a sudden…there I was. But it couldn't have been more different. Most of the time, we were silent, working on…whatever. Stark nervously toyed with his suit, and every time that he looked over at me, I knew we were thinking the same thing.

_How long before I face Obadiah Stane?_

Tearing my eyes away from his, I focused on the flat-screen TV that was opposite me. The news anchor introduced a new segment, and the screen capture showed downtown Los Angeles…by the Walt Disney Concert Hall…and a mask. A dull grey mask. The camera zoomed in…and I realized the mask looked strangely familiar. I frowned and grabbed the remote, turning up the volume.

Stark's footsteps quickened from the other side of the workshop, and he leaned on the couch behind me.

"Shit," he muttered. I looked up quickly, but then back at the TV, my heart pounding with what I'd realized was fear.

"He's coming," I said quietly, "Isn't he?" Stark didn't answer. As the anchor introduced another segment, he took the remote from me and shut it off. He sat down beside me, his shoulders slumped, his brown eyes sad.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Jason, I thought I had enough tech here to keep you safe."

"Mind over muscle?" I asked with a slight grin. He laughed hollowly.

"Right," he agreed. "Look…the truth is…if Stane wants you…there's nothing to stop him from tearing this place apart."

"Well, we can't let that happen," I said with a smile that I hoped displayed confidence. "Can we?"

"No," Stark answered, a grin appearing on his face, identical to my own. "I suppose not."

-IRON MAN-

"You probably hate this, don't you?" Stark asked me as he tightened the screw on the left arm of his suit. I looked down, not responding immediately. He'd been doing the same thing for hours, with me simply looking over his shoulder. I frowned, making a face at him as I set a flathead screwdriver down on the table.

"How could you tell?" He looked up and grinned, wiping grease off his fingers.

"Your expression," he answered. I nodded silently and picked up the Iron Man mask from beside the screwdriver. I stared at the red and gold face that I had grown up knowing…and realized how much of my childhood had been influenced by a man that I had only believed to be a legend. "You all right?" I looked up and shrugged.

"Yeah…I suppose," I said. "It's just…" I turned away, feeling something oddly familiar to a tear fall from my eye. "It's nothing." I took a step towards the door, but then felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned back towards him, my face questioning.

"Trust me," Stark said gently, and I suddenly felt like I had some obligation…like I owed him the truth…about everything. That he deserved it. But did he? Everything else I'd thought about him since I learned about his relation to me…would be used as evidence to the contrary. Didn't I hate him? Didn't I wish he were dead? I wasn't so sure anymore…sure of where my life would lead.

"It's just…" I put the mask back onto his desk and looked up, my arms folded across my chest. "I don't believe that it was you…all along."

"What was me?"

"You were my dad," I said, the words feeling strange in my mouth. Those words hadn't ever come out of my mouth before…had they? "I'd nearly worshiped you all my life…and I never figured it out. You were right in front of me…and I never…"

"Eh, don't blame yourself," he told me, finally setting his tools down by the suit. I frowned.

"Why shouldn't I?" I asked, staring at him blankly. "I'm supposed to be smart…right? I should've caught on. And…you wouldn't believe how many times I wished that I was related to you." His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Really," he muttered, probably more to himself than anyone. He looked back at me and opened his mouth to say something.

"Don't say I got what I wanted, Stark," I growled, a glare pointed in his direction. He raised his hands in surrender.

"I wasn't going to," he said calmly. "I was flattered."

"You'd been through all the same things as me," I explained slowly. "And though I love my mom…she's great…I always felt she was hiding something from me. And she was." I shook my head distractedly. "But none of that matters anymore. It's just…everything I was as a kid, or anything that I _wanted _to be…has come back to bite me on the ass."

Stark laughed. "Sucks, right?"

"Yeah," I said uneasily. "I suppose. But…"

"But what?" He had picked up the screwdriver again and frowned at the suit, then looked back at me.

"Never mind," I muttered, picking up a wrench and staring at it. Anything to avoid looking my dad in the eyes, right?

"Tell me," he insisted, and I could tell that he was trying extremely hard to keep his voice gentle.

"Do you really think-" My voice caught, and I wasn't sure how to continue. What could I trust him with? It wasn't like he was a complete stranger; I'd lived in his house for weeks. I definitely recognized him (if not from TV, then in myself). But…looking into his eyes that I knew so well (for I saw them every time I looked into a mirror) was so hard for me. "Why is Stane after me?"

"A more accurate question is how, Jason," Stark corrected. "How is he after you?" I frowned.

"How?" I repeated, my eyebrows narrowing. He turned around to face me fully, his eyes burning in hatred. "What do you mean?"

"Because he died, twenty years ago," he admitted angrily, his fists clenched.

"But after twenty years…wouldn't it just make sense for him to finish what he started…and kill you?" I asked, rubbing my forehead in thought, brushing my black hair away. "Why me?" I looked up, only to see Stark looking at me with an expression that I couldn't fully identify. But whatever it was…it was definitely not something I had ever expected to see on his face.

"Because he knew me too well," he muttered, running his fingers through his black hair that had splashes of grey. "He knew everything, Jason. From the beginning. You were never hidden from him. He was just waiting until…until I realized who you were." He slammed his hands down onto his desk with a force I was surprised didn't shatter the glass. "How could I have been such an idiot?" I shifted uncomfortably, not trusting myself to speak.

"Well…" I finally said, "That's just the past…I mean…right?" He turned his head to look at me, like he couldn't believe his ears. I swallowed, making a decision. "We can just make up for it in the future." Stark continued to stare at me.

I took a deep breath and swallowed again. Had life always been this hard?

"The future begins now."

-IRON MAN-

Was the chapter worth it? As you can see, things are starting to get more interesting as Obadiah Stane gains on them. Next chapter is a twist. Another "prominent" character from the Avengers and Marvel Comics is going to appear.

See Nick Fury from Jason's point of view. Figures that it's not that different from Tony's, right? haha

Remember to review!

Thanks for reading,

William D. J. Watson


	9. I Have a Meeting with the Director

Wow, it's been almost a month since I've posted chapter 8, and it's summer! Funny. Every year, I tell people that I'll be able to post more frequently during the summer. *cough, cough* That's a lie. I've been more busy than ever, and when I'm not busy, I'm lazy. Next week, I get to lay around and do nothing. The week after is hockey camp, and the week after that is TV Production camp at school, both of which I'm looking forward to. After that, I have another week of lazyness and then I start my JUNIOR YEAR on August 30th. WAY too early, I know.

Well...to remind you what's going on in the story...Jason's being hunted by Obadiah Stane, and he is drawing ever closer. Tony, Pepper, and the others wait with bated breath for Stane to capture his prey.

-IRON MAN-

**Previously in **_**Left Behind**_**...**

"_Why me?" I looked up, only to see Stark looking at me with an expression that I couldn't fully identify. But whatever it was…it was definitely not something I had ever expected to see on his face._

"_Because he knew me too well," he muttered, running his fingers through his black hair that had splashes of grey. "He knew everything, Jason. From the beginning. You were never hidden from him. He was just waiting until…until I realized who you were." He slammed his hands down onto his desk with a force I was surprised didn't shatter the glass. "How could I have been such an idiot?" I shifted uncomfortably, not trusting myself to speak._

"_Well…" I finally said, "That's just the past…I mean…right?" He turned his head to look at me, like he couldn't believe his ears. I swallowed, making a decision. "We can just make up for it in the future." Stark continued to stare at me. _

_I took a deep breath and swallowed again. Had life always been this hard?_

"_The future begins now."_

-IRON MAN-

One morning, I woke early, only to hear the steady rhythm of the waves beating against the rocky cliff upon which the Stark Mansion was built. Frowning, I ran my fingers through my hair. It had grown some, but it was still way shorter than what I was used to. Standing up, I stared at myself in the mirror. Why couldn't I sleep? I'd never been restless as a young boy. If I was asleep…I was asleep. No longer, it seemed.

Coughing, I pulled a t-shirt on over my bare chest. Suddenly hearing raised voices from down the hall, my eyes narrowed. One of the voices I didn't recognize. The other was my father.

"You have no evidence, Fury!" he was saying. As I approached the living room, I silently laid flat against the wall, my heart pounding in my chest. I smirked to myself for a moment. This was the exact same position I'd been in when Stark had appeared at my house.

"What were you thinking, bringing them here?" the other man's voice said. It was deeper than Stark's, and ten times more intimidating. But from what I understood, they were arguing about Mom and I, and I wasn't going to miss anything they had to say. "It's no safer here than where they were."

"Not true," Stark disagreed. Though he was trying to stay calm, I could tell from the tremor in his voice that his fist was a second away from blasting Fury's brains out the window.

"Your orders were to bring them to the Tower," Fury answered angrily. "And you brought them to Los Angeles."

"There's no way Stane could've tracked them here," Stark replied. "Everything I did…was with utmost secrecy. It wouldn't be possible for-"

"Be that as it may, Stane also knows _you_," the deeper voice said slowly, though anything but calm. The other man stepped out of the shadows, giving me a first look at the dude who was arguing with my father. He had dark skin, and wore a black eye patch over his left eye…everything about him screamed…_evil_. But he couldn't be, right? Hell, my dad's Iron Man. He wouldn't be having a meeting with the bad guys…would he? And that's certainly not what it sounded like.

Where had he been supposed to take me…this "tower" that they had talked about? Where was it…why was it there…and why had he brought me back here instead?

"Stane knows every inch of this house. He'll tear it apart looking for the kid." I shuddered, closing my eyes that had already been narrowed. When I looked up again, Stark was smirking.

"Begging your pardon, Director Fury," he said with a sarcastic grin, "But he doesn't. I've made some modifications of my own. Stane doesn't know." He walked over to the piano and played a few keys, which I immediately recognized as _Iron Man_ by Black Sabbath, one of my more favorite songs. (Ironic, right?) I grimaced, the song being badly played. (Though that might have to do with the fact that it's not supposed to be played on the piano.) But I guess Fury recognized it just as well as I had, because he snorted.

"Fantastic," he said, his voice borderline sarcastic as well. "You can play your self-chosen theme song. Well done." But as Stark pressed the last key, I heard something that sounded strangely like a stone roll out of the way of…something. Having seen these kinds of things in movies, I figured it was some sort of secret door. I smiled, just imagining the smirk wiped off of Fury's face. "Well…well. I must admit I underestimated you." Stark grinned.

"What'd I tell you?"

"But…that doesn't change the fact that you went against SHIELD's orders," the other man continued. I stared at him in disbelief. Gritting my teeth, I walked out from my hiding place, making it seem like I was heading for the kitchen. (Well, I was sort of hungry, in my defense.) "You-" At the sound of my footsteps on the hollow, cold floor, they stopped arguing and turned around.

"Jason," Stark said, regaining something resembling dignity to his face. "I didn't…I'm sorry if I woke you." I shook my head.

"You didn't," I lied easily. Or had I been lying? What had woken me up in the first place? I didn't even remember anymore. "I was just going to get a snack or something." He raised his eyebrows doubtfully.

"Right," he said. As he walked closer to me, he whispered, "How much did you hear?"

"Not much." I shrugged indifferently.

"I know you're lying," he said, a firm grip on my shoulder. "Jason, you're…"

"…In danger, yeah," I said. "I know. But what I'd like to know is why." I shrugged his hand away and headed into the kitchen. Trying to clear my head, I searched the freezer, grinning in triumph when I set eyes on a container of rocky road ice cream. I reached for a spoon and sat down, rubbing my forehead.

"Of all people, why did this have to happen to me?" I muttered to myself, setting the ice cream container on the counter. I gripped the edges of the table and breathed in heavily, bowing my head.

Hearing footsteps approaching from down the hall, I swung around, my eyes wide.

"So…this is the famous Jason Potts," a deep voice said. I gave him a curt nod in acknowledgement. He continued to stare at me with his one dark eye, and I glared back. I wasn't sure why, but I was starting to hate him.

"Maybe," I finally answered, avoiding his glance by stashing the ice cream back into the freezer. "What's it to you?"

"I lead the Avengers," he said. I slammed the door shut and folded my arms across my chest.

"I know."

"It was our job to protect you," Fury continued. "But your father…" And the rest I didn't hear.

It was their job to protect me. All this time, I'd thought that Stark was working alone. But had he honestly just come for me because this…Fury…told him to?

I narrowed my eyebrows. "He hasn't done anything wrong, Fury. And if this is your way of trying to twist my mind into coming with you…well…it isn't working." I swallowed nervously, trying to keep my heartbeat steady.

"You are like him."

"Surprised?" I asked. He shrugged.

"A bit." I looked him over for a quick second.

"I thought you'd be taller," I said simply, causing him to grab my shoulder in anger.

"And I thought you'd have more respect," Fury spat. My eyes darted between the eye and the patch, not sure which to avoid. In the end, I chose to stare at his eye. As he continued to stare at me, I was given the uncomfortable feeling that he was trying to read my thoughts…not intimidate me. I freed myself from his grip and leaned back against the kitchen counter, narrowing my eyebrows.

"Why were the Avengers assigned to protect me?" I finally asked. Fury continued to frown, though I could somehow tell that he was honestly thinking of an answer to my question.

"Because if the other side got a hold of you, it wouldn't be good for us," he said. It was my turn to frown.

"What?"

"You're as smart as your father," Fury said. "And even more vulnerable because of your past." As he said that, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly he meant by my past. "If Stane had gotten to you first…it wouldn't have been good."

So that was it. Finally, an answer. Obadiah Stane was after me because of my brain. He wanted my father's genius. He wanted _my_ genius. And if I wouldn't help him…he would kill me. I would've laughed at the cliché movie climax…only if it'd been someone else's life. But this was real…this was my life that was about to be taken away. This was my life that we were trying to protect…wasn't it?

But…did the Avengers honestly think that I would fall prey to Stane's wishes? I may not have had history with him…but I would've known a bad guy when I saw one…right?

"Is your team that bad a judge of character?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We didn't know you."

"That's not what I asked," I said immediately, hardly giving him a chance to finish.

"You-"

"What about my father?" I asked, sighing heavily. What Fury's opinion of me was didn't really matter. "He came to find me…because you told him to?" Though I'd been trying to tell myself for weeks that I didn't give a shit what he felt for me…I did feel an odd sinking feeling in my chest.

"No," Fury said.

"No?"

"No," he affirmed. "SHIELD didn't know that he knew about you. It was our original goal to have you kept safe without him ever knowing who you were…"

"…And without me ever knowing him," I finished, starting to understand. He nodded slightly.

"But when he came to base for the mission, I handed him a sheet of paper with your information," he continued. "He immediately recognized who you were, and told us to leave you alone." I frowned, my eyebrows narrowing. But I continued to listen to Fury's story in silence. "Then I told him what was happening, told him to take you to the base in New York, Stark Tower."

So that was the "tower" that they'd been arguing about earlier. I nodded again.

"He ripped the paper in half and walked out."

"And then he came to find me," I said slowly. "He got all my information from you…everything he needed. And then he brought me back here." I unfolded my arms and leaned on the counter. "Why?" Fury exhaled heavily and continued to study me.

"I'm no expert on feelings…but…I believe it was because he loves you," he admitted, cocking an eyebrow at me. I snorted, looking back at him.

"Well, that's bullshit," I said, laughing. But after seeing his expression, my smile faded. "He's all right…I admit that…but he doesn't love me." I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair. "He doesn't know me," I added quietly.

"You're his son," Fury said, his one dark eye penetrating my forehead. "He doesn't _need_ to know you."

I opened my mouth to retort, but closed it when I realized there was no comeback for it. Nothing could disprove that we were related. But that didn't automatically mean that he loved me…did it? Just because we shared a few strands of DNA…did that make him care for me as if he'd raised me? And did the fact that he was my father plainly give him the right?

My eyebrows narrowed and I clenched my fist. "That's a lie," I muttered, my eyes downcast. If I could avoid the gaze of Nick Fury, I would. On whose authority did that asshole have the right to even suggest things about me? Or my life?

"Like I said," he repeated. "I'm no expert on human emotions. Just telling you what I observed." Fury gave me a last long-winded, one-eyed stare, and then, with the swish of a cloak, was gone.

And it was only after he had gone that I realized Nick Fury was a much better judge of human emotion than he thought.

-IRON MAN-

What'd you guys think? Worthy of Iron Man? :) I hope so, anyway. I've gotten the most reviews for this story, and this is my first 9th chapter! Most of my stories are about 6 chapters long, but I'm aiming for this one to be about 15 or so. It depends on if I go with the epilogue or not.

But if you like Jason...I want to recommend:

_A Life Not Wasted_ (which isn't finished yet, but I'm working on it.)

_Just A Memory_ (one-shot, wrote it a while ago.)

Thanks, and please review,

William D. J. Watson


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